


Fight Night

by hyperion



Series: Fight [3]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood, Facials, M/M, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Sexual Content, Size Difference, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-22
Updated: 2011-08-22
Packaged: 2017-11-15 11:37:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyperion/pseuds/hyperion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur shows up for the next fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight Night

**Author's Note:**

> Lovely art by the even lovelier [](http://uncafe.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://uncafe.livejournal.com/)**uncafe**  
> 

Every smack of flesh on flesh made Arthur harder. He bit his lip when Eames glared at his opponent from beneath a bloody brow. He moaned when Eames’ fist knocked the man’s head to the side so quickly that the audience was silent a moment until it became apparent that the man’s neck wasn’t broken. Arthur stuck his hand down his pants when the other man began crawling away from Eames. Everyone in the crowd was too focused on winning or losing money or the sheer violence of the brawl to notice Arthur squeezing his cock.

God. He was going to come in his pants if he didn’t get himself under control.

Arthur managed to pull his hand back out of his pants, but he could not quite keep it away from his dick, rubbing the crotch of his pants every now and then as the fight progressed. When the fight was over, Arthur found Eames as the big man made his way away from the center of the crowd. There was still a fight left before the final one of the night, one that Eames would be in.

Arthur grabbed his arm, noticing that Eames’ forearm was so big that his fingers could not close around it. Eames led Arthur to the bathroom, a dimly-lit room with dirty stalls and broken mirrors. Arthur, who was the most fastidious person Eames had ever met, did not care at all. He had tunnel vision, body burning feverishly for anything Eames could give him.

Eames grabbed Arthur’s hips and sat him on a sink. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Anything you want,” Arthur moaned, kissing Eames, wrapping a leg around Eames’ hips so he could rub himself against Eames and get some friction for his aching cock.

“Look at you, pet,” Eames said when Arthur pulled away, gasping and arching his back over the faucet to press his hips into Eames’ harder. “You’re such a hot little slut for me breaking men, aren’t you?”

“Please,” Arthur whined.

Smirking, Eames gave Arthur a particularly nasty, “No,” that stilled Arthur’s hips. The other man looked positively betrayed. “You’re going to get down on your knees and you’re going to suck my dick. And then you’re going to wait until I’m done killing whoever wins this match before you get off.”

Arthur’s body went lax for a moment as all the best insults were shocked right out of his brain. “Son of a bitch,” he hissed at Eames finally as he slipped from the sink and slid to his knees. He looked up at Eames, unbuttoning his pants and pulling down the zipper. He had not been able to get a glimpse of Eames’ cock the first time, and they had not had a lot of downtime in the past week, so this was Arthur’s first proper look at Eames’ dick.

It was gorgeous. Arthur could see the dusky, swollen head peaking out of the foreskin – bless Eames for being British – and the shaft was thick and beautifully veined like marble. Arthur went for Eames’ balls first, taking one into his mouth and rolling his tongue against it. Eames was going to come for him, Arthur thought as he moved to the other one, going to empty his balls down Arthur’s throat in a few minutes.

Eames was bent over Arthur, clutching at the sink by the time Arthur was finished playing. “There’s a good boy,” he said, running his fingers through Arthur’s hair when Arthur let his balls go and took the head of Eames’ dick into his mouth. He licked it with the flat of his tongue, tasting the slightly bitter, slightly salty flavor of Eames leaking out of the slit. His own cock was responding in kind without even being touched, and Arthur dug his fingers into Eames’ hips to keep his hands busy.

[ ](http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v606/mdrober1/?action=view&current=fightnight1.jpg)

Impatient, Eames began thrusting shallowly in and out of Arthur’s mouth, and the weight of his cock on Arthur’s tongue had Arthur so hot he actually considered rubbing himself off against Eames’ leg. A sharp tug of his hair and a, “Come on, pet,” was all the warning Arthur got to pay attention before Eames’ shallow thrusts turned into Eames forcing all of his cock into Arthur’s mouth. Arthur took a breath in through his nose as he tilted his head back, feeling the head of Eames’ cock enter his throat.

In no time at all, Eames was face fucking Arthur, paying no attention to Arthur’s gag reflex. He pushed himself deeper and deeper into Arthur’s throat, and Arthur clung to Eames’ hips as his groin ground into Arthur’s face again and again. God help him, he could hardly breathe around Eames’ cock, but that only made him harder.

Eames finally came, filling Arthur’s mouth with his come. Arthur expected Eames to shoot his whole load down Arthur’s throat, but Eames pulled out and finished coming all over Arthur’s face. Arthur could not even moan, trying to catch his breath as Eames’ hot come marked his skin. Eames leaned on the sink for a few moments afterward, waiting for the knee-weakening pleasure to dissipate.

When he had steadied himself, Eames reached down and pulled Arthur up to his feet, spinning him to face the mirror. Arthur was shocked at the sight of himself: lips bruised and swollen, white streaking his cheek and forehead. Eames grabbed his cock and the only thing that kept Arthur from coming was that Eames’ squeezing was just this side of painful.

“I think choking you with my dick made you harder,” he said, gripping Arthur so tightly that he whimpered.

Arthur nodded, blushing.

“Clean yourself up and come watch me win,” Eames said, letting go and walking out of the bathroom.

Arthur had just pulled paper towels out of the dispenser when a stall opened up behind him. The man that came out of it sneered at Arthur. “That was a great show.”

“Fuck off,” Arthur replied, wetting the paper towels and wiping his face clean.

“Heard about you last week. My friend saw you in the alley with that troll.”

“Your friend can fuck off too.”

“That’s not nice,” the man said, approaching Arthur. “You should watch your mouth.”

Face clean, Arthur turned around to face the man. “Or what?”

“Well, your boyfriend isn’t here to defend you, is he? Shouldn’t have left such a pretty little thing like you all alone,” the man said, reaching out to run his thumb over Arthur’s bottom lip.

As soon as the man touched him, Arthur drove his knee into his crotch and brought his elbow down on the back of the man’s neck when he doubled over. The man collapsed onto the floor, but grabbed Arthur’s legs, tripping him. Arthur’s head hit the sink on the way down, and he pressed his palm to his temple, blinking away stars. He kicked out, foot connecting with the man’s face, and Arthur grinned viciously at the crunch of his nose.

He pulled himself off the floor, considering another kick to the face, but decided to leave the man curled on the floor in his misery. “He’s not my boyfriend, and I don’t need him to protect me, you dick.”

Arthur found Eames standing at the edge of the ring, waiting for people to collect their money and make new bets so the fight could start. “What happened to you?” Eames demanded, seeing the bruised knot forming on Arthur’s temple.

Arthur nodded at the other fighter on the other side of the ring. “His friend tried to be a badass.” Arthur, of course, had no way of knowing whether the other fighter had even met the man in the bathroom, but Arthur figured it would piss Eames off enough to rip the other guy’s spine from his body.

It worked. Eames immediately drove the other guy to the ground with a storm of punches to his head. Arthur almost felt sorry for him, would have felt sorry for him if the violence didn’t have his cock throbbing harder than his head. The fight was over faster than any other that night, and Arthur waited patiently while Eames collected his winnings and people started leaving. He spotted the man from the bathroom, a handful of paper towels clutched to his nose, slinking away.

“Do I get to come now?” Arthur asked as the last stragglers left the building.

“Asking me for permission to come? I like that, pet.”

“Shut up,” Arthur said, grabbing Eames’ broad shoulders and pulling him in for a kiss.

Eames’ hands slipped under Arthur’s T-shirt, breaking the kiss to pull it over Arthur’s head. Arthur used Eames to steady himself as he kicked off his shoes. Then he stripped off his pants, kicking those away too. He opened Eames’ pants again, finding Eames just as hard as he was before he fucked Arthur’s mouth.

“This won’t be quick, love,” Eames murmured, making Arthur shudder. They made their way to the floor, bloodstained, just like Eames had promised. This was going to be filthy and unsanitary, and that just set Arthur’s brain on fire. “Ride me,” Eames said. “Let me look at you.”

Arthur pulled Eames’ pants lower and settled himself on top of Eames. He reached back and guided Eames’ cock to his entrance. Arthur had lubed himself up before coming to the warehouse, but had not spent any time trying to stretch himself, so he still got to revel in the sting of Eames fucking him open. It took three tries, but Arthur managed to seat himself all the way down on Eames, thighs spread wide over Eames’ hips, back arched into Eames’ raised knees.

Eames groaned as Arthur began riding his cock, starting with small circles of his hips. The view of Arthur stretched taut above him was nearly incapacitating. He reached out, big hands on Arthur’s small waist, fingers tracing flexing abdominal muscles and then up to Arthur’s chest. Arthur’s nipples were hard, and Eames pulled at one, twisting it, making Arthur gasp out, “Oh, God, yes.”

Arthur’s whole body shuddered when Eames did it again, pinching harder this time. Arthur grabbed Eames’ hand in both of his, holding it close to his body, head falling back as he moaned. Arthur’s cock was practically purple, he was so hard, and his ass was squeezing Eames’ so tightly that Eames had to grit his teeth to keep from coming, even though he had come only a short time ago.

Eames pulled sharply on both of Arthur’s nipples, making him cry out. “You’d let me do anything to you when you’re this worked up, wouldn’t you?” he asked.

“Yes. Please,” Arthur groaned, whimpering when Eames let go of him and his hands settled back on Arthur’s hips.

“Say it.”

Arthur leaned forward, putting his hands on Eames’ chest. Eames thought at first that Arthur was going to get him back for the rough treatment of his nipples, but Arthur just dug his fingers into the flesh of Eames’ pectoral muscles for leverage and thrust back hard against Eames. “Anything,” Arthur said breathlessly. “Please. Anything you want. Do it.”

[ ](http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v606/mdrober1/?action=view&current=fightnight2.jpg)

Eames pulled Arthur down for a kiss, fucking Arthur’s mouth with his tongue like he had with his dick and enfolding Arthur in his arms so he could roll Arthur over onto his back. He hooked his arms under Arthur’s knees, bending Arthur in half so he could fuck him hard and proper. When Eames finally pulled his tongue out of Arthur’s mouth so they could breathe, each solid thrust into Arthur forced out another, “Please.”

“Please. Please. Please.” Arthur was practically chanting it, lost in Eames fucking him. This angle made Eames feel that much bigger, made Arthur burn with friction. His cock, already overly sensitive from being turned on too long without coming, felt raw between Eames’ hairy belly and his own.

Eames pushed his legs higher, and Arthur’s knees hooked over Eames’ shoulders, ankles meeting behind Eames’ neck. It felt like his breath was being crushed out of him by Eames’ weight, driven out of him by each deeper thrust. Something hit – either Arthur’s cock had finally had enough or Eames’ cock had found Arthur’s prostate – and Arthur was coming so hard he shouted himself hoarse and pulled a muscle arching his back.

And Eames fucked him through it, relentless, driving himself into Arthur again and again. Arthur was soft against his belly now, and even more sensitive having come finally. His eyes were stinging from it, but he still begged Eames for whatever Eames wanted to give him, and Eames came, getting off just as much because of Arthur’s ass as the power he had over Arthur.

Arthur choked on a cry when Eames pulled out, his legs slipping off Eames’ shoulders and falling limply to the floor. “You’ve got to stop fighting,” he mumbled, eyes closed, throat dry. “I don’t think I can take anymore.”

Eames caressed Arthur’s face, watching Arthur’s lashes flutter. “You will, darling. You’ll take it all for me.”

***

Dom brought Arthur coffee the next morning. “What the hell are you two fighting about?” he asked, taking in Arthur sitting on an extra pillow, bent over his desk to relieve the sore muscles in his back, and Arthur’s head bruised so gnarly the purple was green around the edges.

“You really don’t want to know,” Arthur said. He hated to admit it, but this round went to Eames.


End file.
